A Witch's Game | ✓

6 | A Secret

A loud groan resonated through the bedroom as the prince slammed his fist on the glass window. Hudson twirled and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

The Queen sat on the bed, rubbing her fingertips on her forehead in an attempt to release her stress, and sighed. She was on the verge of drowning deep in her slumber but the continuous questions her sweet son was hurling at her since past two hours regarding the same topic time and time again managed to pull her back to reality.

"Mom, dad," He began, voice thickening with frustration. "I'm dying to feel the crown on my head. I desperately await the day for my coronation and I'm being told that we need a queen in order to do achieve it."

"Hudson, calm down, my dear." The King sauntered inside with his hands clasped behind his back. "You're aware of us talking with the other kingdoms and even our family match-maker is trying his best to find a perfect woman."

He halted in front of his son and placed his hand over his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "It's just that no one is ready to marry you."

"I'm not the cause of it," Hudson scoffed and glanced away, causing his mother to sit up straight and the King to stiffen. "It is because of what happened in our palace years ago." Hudson gulped and gritted his teeth, clenching his fist. "Why, why they can't think of it as a rumour, why they had to believe it."

The Queen beckoned Hudson, and he kneeled before her, resting his hands on her knees. "Don't worry." She smiled softly at him and ran a hand through his hair, relaxing him under her motherly touch as he closed his eyes for a second. "We'll find a solution."

"But, for now, you must focus on The Royal Show." The King intervened.

Hudson opened his eyes at his father's words and looked over his shoulder, flashing him a grin. "I am focused." He stared back at the Queen as he took her hand off his head and held them in reassurance. "I will make them believe that I'll be the best king, ever."

If only his words were as easy to believe as his smile then maybe one would've taken him to be genuine, but his mother, the Queen, knew his son too well to come in his sugary promise. And, as the sugar thaws, she knew his promise will too.

Though he wasn't bad, but he was indeed what one could call twisted. Sometimes she felt scared of her own son.

What if he turns out to be a bad king?

The desperation and greed he's showing towards the crown churned her mind. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good for the villagers.

~~~

Viola puckered her brows and shot her a look. She curled her hand around the handle of the rolling pin, flattening the dough. "Are you serious?"

Priscilla wiped off the sweat coating her skin with the back of her hand before it could trickle down and sprinkled red chilly pepper across the simmering water along with a canister of sweet corns.

"Yes," She twirled, brushing off her hands on her apron and folded them over her chest, flexing her jaw as she refrained from sloping against the kitchen Island's rim as its hard edge will hurt her back. "And believe me, it wasn't even one bit helpful for my goal."

Priscilla and Viola volunteered to help Gem as they perceived her misery then they cognitive that she had duped them into a cooking class as she, on purpose had given a day off to her chefs as an act of displaying her generosity. And so, to inhibit their boredom Priscilla began to say everything about her encounter with Harper.